paroles de chanson Holy Water Flow - Slim Thug , Paul Wall
It's
about
that
time
man
I'm
squad
H
Town
It's
time
to
get
it
()
Back
to
work,
grindin
til
it
hurt
Mixin
up
the
purp,
twistin
up
the
purp
Hoggin
since
birth,
the
realest
on
earth
Hog
like
shirt,
got
me
work
without
work
You
got
a
bad
bitch,
too
bad
I
hit
first
Paid
5 now
who
ain't
mine?
Got
I'm
feeling
thirsty
Put
them
niggas
in
a
hearse,
whip
game
kill
em
Choppas
in
the
bag,
I
ain't
gon
conceil
em
On
another
million,
tryna
feed
my
children
I
ain't
gon
stop,
stack
it
to
the
ceiling
Million
after
million,
million
after
million
I
ain't
gon
stop,
watch
me
stack
it
to
the
ceiling
You
saying
that
was
fast
when
you
see
that
rrari
pass
Murda
tight
the
gas,
wanna
smash
on
the
gas
When
I
see
your
ass
pass,
camera
on
flash
Take
a
flick
with
yo
bitch
then
I
smash
No
class,
same
old
thugger
Shit
if
don't
hit,
somebody
gon
fuck
er
Smooth
like
butter,
you'll
never
find
another
Gutta
like
me,
that's
why
these
niggas
don't
like
me
Hat
low,
gold
chain,
new
kick
Old
school,
loud
pipes,
new
bitch
New
year,
guess
I'm
on
my
new
shit
Niggas
talkin
loud
but
they
won't
do
shit
Walk
into
the
club,
smellin
like
a
pine
Had
a
dress
code
and
I
got
some
mo
lime
Blazzin
up
ho,
now
you
can't
hit
that
This
dick
the
only
place
you
put
yo
lips
at
Sit
back,
let
me
put
on
this
work
plate
Over
yall,
50
bitches
think
I'm
bout
that
bird
plate
But
I
just
rap
ho,
yea
my
car
stroking
Why
them
niggas
gossip?
I
be
stuntin
on
them
assholes
Pass
low,
let
em
see
me
in
my
flip
Mama
dropped
the
beat
on
22nd
of
December
That
was
back
in
'85,
now
I
drive
an
'86
I'm
back
to
the
future
on
Marty
Mcfly
as
shit
Missed
with
that
nagget,
you
blowed
on
my
high
bitch
Nig
because
a
nigga
fucked
doesn't
mean
that
you
my
bitch
Killin
niggas,
I'm
spittin
that
loud
shit
Rollin
as
a
up,
I'm
tryna
get
high
bitch
Take
em
to
the
crib
and
I'm
letting
em
try
shit
Take
em
to
the
mall
and
they
watchin
me
buy
shit
Cuz
I
ain't
bout
to
trick
it,
you
can
help
me
get
it
Let
me
dial
a
motherfucker,
stay
shittin
on
you
gimmicks
nigga
()
Money
and
the
power,
smoking
on
the
sour
Hit
the
gas,
hit
it,
Maserati
engine
growl
Shittin
on
em,
movin
through
the
traffic
like
a
ball
Watching
everybody
here
turn
around
like
a
owl
Slow
coupe,
getting
to
that
paper
with
a
focused
mind
I
do
mine
while
they
story
tellin,
no
lyin
We
grind
so
the
money
all
accounted
for
I
don't
pay
my
bills,
that's
why
my
accountant
for
Mo
gas
than
the
Kamako,
rolled
up
and
lit
Pouring
up
the
double
cup
with
my
partner
fish
Codeine
and
Coca-Cola,
you
might
think
I'm
trippin
The
bucks
I'm
getting
so
a
fuck
I'm
not
giving
Post
up
like
Griffin
when
I'm
mashin
for
them
Benjis
Light
up
that
hindu
and
wash
it
down
with
frenchies
I'm
sittin
in
the
Kodas,
everything
on
polders
Drank
stains
on
my
shirt,
leave
me
with
the
stock
brokers
Hold
up
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